


Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You

by theboardwalkbody



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theboardwalkbody/pseuds/theboardwalkbody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Effie and Haymitch come from completely different worlds. Effie isn't as weak as everyone thinks she is but she can only handle so much, she is human after all. During the 74th Hunger Games Effie finally confronts Haymitch about his attitude toward her and the Capitol. Inspired by the Anberlin song, "Type Three".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You

Effie Trinket strode into the penthouse carrying a small shopping bag and her usual air of self-confidence as the young avox behind her struggled with the weight of the rest of her days shopping haul.

"Place it in my room, would you." she said. Her usually shrill voice sounded at least an octave lower, the avox noted, could it be that all that bustling about does actually run her down? Impossible. This was Effie Trinket. The woman who could walk the world twice over in a day without tiring if you let her plan every single step first. The avox began walking toward her room to put her bags away like she had told him but when he was no more than three steps away she stopped him.

"Don't forget this one!" The shrillness was back. As he turned he saw her holding the small shopping bag out to him with her pointer finger. The bag swung gently back and forth. In another place and time, he would have told the old bat to take it to her room herself along with every other bag that combined must have weighed at least forty pounds, but the only option he had now was to obey her every whim.

Without a word that he wouldn't have been able to form anymore anyway, he walked up to her and let her place the bag inside a larger one that was dangling from around his arm. The bag may have been light but he swore it was just about the tipping point and had he not had practice doing this about a hundred times already he would have probably fallen over. He was able to retain his balance, however, and made his way to Effie's room.

When the avox was out of the room Effie turned to the larger mirror on the wall. She'd been feeling quite angry lately and it was making her feel exhausted as well. In the mirror she saw her reflection showed no mercy when it came to how exhausted she looked. Her face was covered in wrinkles, especially around her eyes and mouth, and the bags under her eyes could have carried her shopping haul. She sighed. No amount of makeup was hiding her exhaustion, perhaps once the Games had finished she would buy herself a face-lift, but for now she had to do her best not to act the way she felt. She hoped the bright colors of her hair and clothes would keep everyone certain she was the same old bubbly Effie she always was, but today's light green wasn't fooling her, at least. She'd been trying to cheer herself up with shopping trips, but even those, which always used to put a new spring in her step, weren't having any effect anymore.

For just a moment she let her facade fall. She turned from the mirror, leaned against the wall and just closed her eyes. She wanted to stay like that forever. Just for once she wanted to take a break from the constant bustle that was her life, the constant planning, getting, going, doing, dressing, and presenting. Sure, if she were to be honest she loved it. She loved to be involved in all these social gatherings, loved to be right in the middle of things, loved to be the one making the pieces fall into place so that everything works out perfectly. The thing that had her down, really, wasn't her life at all. It was the people in her life. Well, a single person in particular. To him everything she did was wrong. His reasoning? It's because she's from the Capitol, because she's a supporter of the Games. Like that automatically makes her a terrible human-being. It's not like she's ever killed anyone herself.

She opened her eyes and pushed away from the wall. She was angry now that she'd been thinking about him in the first place. She began to tidy up the room, unsure of what else to do or of what else to calm her. He would never understand. He thinks he's so much better than people from the Capitol, thinks he's so much better than her. Just because people from the Capitol don't have to enter the games doesn't mean they think they're better than people in the Districts, but of course that's exactly how he thinks.

"Morning, sweetheart." the deep, gruff voice had the same effect on Effie as nails being raked down a chalkboard.

Speak of the devil.

Time again to act like everything's fine. "It's the afternoon now, Haymitch." Effie replied without looking up from the couch, she was making sure the throw pillows sat at just the right angle.

"Whatever."

Haymitch Abernathy staggered across the room, Effie heard the heaviness of his footsteps and could tell he was either still groggy from sleep or still drunk from the day before. Given the man in question she could bet her life on it being both. He headed into the kitchen, pulled down a glass from the cabinet, wrenched open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of white liquor, poured himself a glass, then staggered over into the living room and laid down on the couch Effie had just finished perfecting the throw pillows on. She considered saying something to him about how he just wrecked her work but she knew he couldn't care less so she pursed her lips and moved on to administer the same treatment to the adjacent loveseat.

"I saw that avox carrying his weight in your shopping down the hall." He took a sip from his glass. "What could have possibly rattled your foundations this time?"

It was no surprise to her that he'd figured out shopping was her vice, as alcohol was his own. After all when you spend enough time with someone, whether you want to or not, you learn their habits. For a fraction of a second Effie allowed herself to think that maybe, in his own way, he actually was concerned.

Until he spoke again to finish his thought. "They stopping your precious Games?" He raised the glass to his lips and closed his eyes waiting for the familiar taste of the liquor to fill his mouth, but instead the glass was suddenly knocked from his hand.

It all happened so fast. Effie was overcome by pure rage at his comment that she took the few steps over to him, smacked the glass from his hand, and stared daggers at him as the glass flew a foot or so before crashing to the floor and shattering. As soon as Haymitch felt the sting of her nails as the tips of them brushed his cheek when she roughly swatted the glass away his eyes snapped open. He was up like a shot, and the sound of the glass shattering had almost been drowned out by the sound of Effie's beating heart as she saw him come at her, grab her by the color of the shirt that always matched her dyed hair and pin her against the wall.

She was scared, no, she was terrified, no doubt about that, but she wasn't going to let him see it. She'd crossed a line, taking away the vice of a Hunger Games victor, one who had a reputation of not playing nice, at that, but she didn't take back what she did. She wasn't going to say she was sorry.

They glared at each other for a long moment. He towered over her, his face red with anger and she could smell the alcohol on his breath he was so close. She didn't know how long they would have stayed like that if it wasn't for the reappearance of the avox. They both sensed he was there, but they were both too stubborn to look away first. In the end it was Haymitch who broke eye contact, and Effie felt a surge of pride fill her.

The avox must have came into the room after he heard the glass shatter but how long had he been standing there staring at the two of them like an animal in a trap, Haymitch didn't know. Seeing the fear on the poor man's face made him let go of Effie. He'd remembered overhearing the man was from District 10, and that he'd been found by the Capitol trying to escape his district. As punishment they cut his tongue out and made him a servant.

"Get out." Haymitch took a step back from Effie and looked away from both of them. The man quickly exited the penthouse.

"Call him back." Effie's shrill voice made Haymitch grit his teeth.

"What the hell for?" He looked over to her with a look of pure annoyance on his face and Effie very much wanted to slap him.

"Are you going to clean that up then? You should, seeing as how it's your drink." She pointed at the shattered glass a few feet behind them, the alcohol surely staining the carpet as they spoke, and placed her free hand on her hip.

"Oh? You're the one who smacked it out of my hand, sweetheart. So maybe you should go and clean it up, you were doing a really good job of cleaning up before that, anyway." He was dangerously close to her again and this time when she felt like smacking him she didn't hold back. The sound punctured the air and seemed to hang in the air much longer than it actually did. He took a step back and placed a hand against his cheek.

He removed his hand from his face and checked his palm, there was a dot of blood, one of her nails must have cut him.

"Prissy Capitol bitch." he spat at her.

"You know, Haymitch, I've had it. You think you're so much better than me. You think I'm some naïve woman because I believe in the Captiol, but at least I believe in something, unlike you. You think you're better because you're a victor. You think of all us here in the Capitol as blind sheep swimming in indulgences, don't you?"

"None of you have ever know what it's like to actually have to work a full day in your life, do you? To go hungry, to live in fear of the reapings. So what do you want me to think!?" He yelled at her.

"You have no idea what goes on here! The only reason we're lucky to have all of the things we do is because of the Games keeping the districts in line! The Games are to keep the peace so I will not have you bashing them anymore, it's your own faults!" Effie shouted.

Haymitch lunged at her, but she was a fast learner and expected him so she was able to step off to the side and avoid him. He hit the wall with such force a framed photo fell off the hook and crashed to the floor.

"You and I have our differences, but right now we have two tributes we should be watching out for. It's your job to get them sponsors and you've been doing nothing! From now on you're going to do what the hell you're supposed to be doing and you're going to do so without comment to me. Speak only when you are spoken to, got it? I want nothing to do with you otherwise!" She wasn't sure how much of this he was actually going to follow, but she was laying down the rules anyway.

"I can have you turned into an avox for threatening me, Haymitch, just because you're a victor doesn't mean they wont punish you." She turned from him and began to head for her room, she wanted to go through her shopping haul to try and calm herself. She'd call the avox back from there because there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that Haymitch would clean up the mess.

He watched her walk toward the hall, undoubtedly going to rummage through her precious treasures that the people back home would kill to even look at. He had a whole slew of things he wanted to shout at her, but her threat killed them all in his throat. He sat there as mute as the avox she threatened to make of him.

When Effie's ears were met by silence rather than a shouted insult or some comment on inequality she smiled to herself and stopped. She was at the entrance to the hall when she turned around, looked him square in the eye, and said, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Baby." and continued down the hall to her room, leaving Haymitch to sit in anger in the living room.


End file.
